Green and Purple
by WhyAye
Summary: Lewis thinks it's enough to use colors to distinguish between Laura and Jean.  Hathaway's blunder tells him there's more at stake.
1. A Mixup?

When he got to the office in the morning, Detective Sergeant James Hathaway noticed immediately that he was not the first to arrive. There was a suit jacket draped limply over the back of the desk chair of his partner, Detective Inspector Robert Lewis. And the computer on Lewis's desk was already on. _He's here early_. Hathaway couldn't remember if Lewis's flat had an air conditioner. He thought not. That would explain why he was here well before Hathaway, whose flat at least had a window unit he kept expressly for summers like this one.

Oxford was in the middle of an extraordinary August heat wave. Too hot to sleep these nights if you didn't have air con. Hathaway shed his own jacket, slinging it from his shoulders and settling it on the back of his own chair in one fluid motion. He realized he had at the same time knocked something off his partner's desk. _Oops_.

Hathaway hurried over to the other side of the office to see what had fallen. There was a bag on the floor, a little shopping bag with handles, bearing the logo of a rather upscale Oxford jewelry shop. He picked it up and looked inside. There were two small boxes, identically wrapped in green-and-purple, iris-covered paper. Two miniature bows that matched the wrapping paper were also in the bag, one green and one purple. Hathaway noticed that each box now had an ugly little scuff mark in the center where the bow had been stuck. _The bows must have come off when I knocked the bag_.

He heard Lewis coming toward the office, greeting colleagues with friendly complaints about the heat. Hathaway hastily stuck the bows back on the boxes and replaced the bag on Lewis's desk exactly as it had been. He sat quickly in his own chair.

"Morning, Sir. Heat drive you out of your home early today?"

"Morning, Sergeant. You're spot-on about the heat. If this keeps up, I may need to give up and buy a window unit like yours. Seems like a waste for three hundred sixty-two days a year, though."

"How'd you manage over the weekend? Spent two days in a cool bath?"

"Aw, no. In fact, I spent most of it out digging in me garden. I bet I lost two stone in sweat."

"You mean you finally decided, on the hottest weekend of the summer, to make something out of that empty space you call your garden?" Hathaway stared in disbelief.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I really had no choice."

"Why not?"

Lewis seemed to be debating himself about how much to tell his sergeant. He sighed. "I had a certain amount of help available this weekend. So it was now or never."

"Help? What, you hired someone?" Hathaway could hardly believe his boss would pay money for something like that.

"Erm, not exactly. It was volunteer help."

Hathaway scowled, not clear on what this arrangement might be. "Is there some reason you're being so mysterious about this, Sir?"

It was Lewis's turn to scowl. "I'm sure if I tell you, you'll take it the wrong way and twist it into something very different from what occurred."

Now Hathaway was intrigued. His eyes widened with faux naïveté. "You had the entire complement of pole dancers from The Bird's Nest helping you!"

It took Lewis half a beat to recognize the wind-up. "Hilarious, Sergeant. But no."

He realized there was little chance Hathaway would let the subject drop, and he sighed resignedly.

"Chief Superintendent Innocent and Doctor Hobson were my volunteer assistants. Well, really it was Jean's idea, Laura's plan, and _I_ was the assistant."

It took James a moment to absorb this information. "The Chief Super _wanted_ to give your garden a makeover? Whose idea was it to invite Laura Hobson?"

"Well, mine I suppose. Jean said she didn't want to have to shoulder all the blame when I complained about it and she needed me to bring along someone familiar with plants. And Laura's the only person I know like that."

"Innocent and Hobson working together. Well, _that_ must have been interesting. Was there much discord, by any chance?"

Lewis snorted. "Y'might say that. Not open hostility so much as persistent undermining. I had final say on all the decisions, it being my garden and all, but it didn't take me long to figure out I needed to resolve differences with me own, third solution rather than take one side or the other." He shook his head. "If I liked one woman's idea over the other's, one would gloat and the other pout. Every time. Didn't matter which one or how even-handed I tried to be. Ridiculous."

Hathaway smirked. "Don't you think they felt there was more at stake than a mere boxwood-versus-hyacinth battle?"

"What, you're saying they were indirectly fighting for my attention? Naw, it wasn't anythin' like that. It was disagreement because they wanted to disagree with each other. Like cats and dogs, those two."

"Which one is which?"

Lewis appeared to give this some thought. "Jean is definitely 'dogs' so that would mean Laura is 'cats.'"

"And you prefer cats."

Lewis's eyes narrowed. "I _have_ a cat, that doesn't mean I prefer them." He continued his glare a bit longer. "Why don't you go get us some coffee, Sergeant?"

"How can you drink coffee when it's this hot out?"

"What does the weather have to do with it?"

There was no point in arguing. Hathaway unfolded himself from his chair and went out, returning in a few minutes with a steaming mug.

"Thank you, Hathaway." Lewis turned as if to work on something on his desk.

"Wait. I want to hear more about his garden project. How did that work? They were there all weekend, or what? And how did it turn out?"

"As a matter of fact, it's lovely. They came over Saturday morning and made up a plan. Jean drew up like a little blueprint with me and Laura getting all the measurements for her. Then Laura mostly worked out what plants would go where. That's when most of the disagreement was. Laura wanted more of a cottage garden look and Jean wanted something more formal."

"You liked the cottage garden."

"Yeah, but I couldn't pick Laura over Jean or Jean would have been off the project." He rolled his eyes. "So I said I wanted a more formal layout but informal plants. A'course, they both thought I was an idiot for that. 'You simply _can't_ have scruffy-looking plants like that in such an elegant design, Lewis.'" He did a remarkable imitation of their Super's chiding voice. "Anyway, we worked out a compromise, partly because I insisted I'm not capable of taking proper care of a garden full of high-maintenance shrubs and flowers."

"What else did they argue about?"

Lewis rolled his eyes again. "Nearly everything. Laura wanted a pond with a waterfall and Jean wanted a pond with a fountain."

"And the result?"

"I didn't want a pond at all. Too much work. Not to mention all the digging. We settled on a . . . a pagoda—no, a parthenon?—no, it's something like that. An arbor, only bigger, and with a bench."

"A pergola. Sounds nice." Hathaway considered what he'd been told to this point. "So they drew up plans with your approval—layout, species of plants, ground cover, all that—then what?"

"We went out together and spent a lot of me money. Loaded up Jean's Volvo full of plants and bags of mulch and took it all back to me garden. The women went home and I did a lot of digging. In the morning, they came back and I followed their directions as best I could, despite all the aching muscles from Saturday's efforts."

"You mean, you three alone did all the work?"

Lewis considered this a moment. "Well, Jean didn't actually do much physical labor. Laura helped with the digging. But yeah, we did it without any outside help."

Hathaway couldn't help noticing that Lewis's familiarity with their mutual boss now extended to his using her Christian name with regular frequency. "And it turned out nicely?"

"Ah, yeah, it's lovely. You should come see it."

"And you three finished it in two days?"

"Yeah, it was done by about four Sunday afternoon."

"So then what? They just went home?"

"Well, I took them both out for dinner. It was the least I could do."

"What, all sweaty and dirty and all?"

"A'course not! We cleaned up first."

Hathaway squinted, trying to picture how this would have worked. "You mean, what, _showered_? Changed clothes? All of that activity involving . . . _nakedness_?"

Lewis stared back. "What d'you think? Yeah, all of that. Not _together_ or anythin', Sergeant. Obviously. One at a time. Everything very above board." He was clearly offended that Hathaway should think otherwise.

"Sorry, Sir. Couldn't resist the, erm . . ."

Lewis exhaled loudly, shaking his head. "You know better, James. I know y'do."

Hathaway hung his head in apparent shame. "I do, Sir, I am sorry."

Lewis studied him a while, assessing his honesty. Hathaway peeked up at him. He flashed a wicked grin and easily dodged the pencil Lewis lobbed at him. "So you took them both out to dinner and then sent Innocent on her way so you and Hobson could . . . make certain the garden is nice at night, too?"

Lewis sounded as though he was instructing a backward child. "Jean took Laura home. I was left alone to admire the fruits of our mutual labor. And enjoy about three or four bottles of beer to make up for all the fluid I'd lost over the weekend."

Hathaway seemed to be picturing the entire sequence of events in his mind. He started up as though about to say something, sat back in his chair, started up again, and sat back again.

"_What_, Hathaway?"

James furrowed his brow, thinking. "I'm very curious, Sir." He looked entirely serious. "I'm trying to picture this. It's hot, the sun is beating down, everyone's working hard, sweat is glistening on the ladies' skin. Just how scantily clad were the women during these operations?"

Lewis tossed another pencil at him. "Pervert. They both wore jeans, long sleeves, wellies, and big sunhats, okay?" But he was grinning. "Despite the three-way setup, perfect for a cheap, amateur film of the sort you doubtless enjoy in the privacy of your own home, nothing of that nature occurred during the entire weekend."

Hathaway rolled his eyes. "Sexual opportunities are totally wasted on you."

Lewis snorted. "Indeed."

The two men grinned. Despite the heat, which had a tendency to make people cantankerous, they were both in good spirits, especially for a Monday morning.

Hathaway got up. "Another cup of nice, hot coffee, Sir?"

"Ah, yeah, that'd be great. You going to go suck on a burning roll of tobacco out in the sweltering heat of the loading dock?"

James smirked, this time at himself. "Yup. Back in a bit." He took Lewis's coffee mug with him.

When he got back, Lewis welcomed the steaming beverage, sucking down a good-sized swallow. "Ahhh. Thank you, James."

"No problem." Hathaway plopped into his desk chair. He noticed the jewelry store bag was gone from Lewis's desk.

"Erm, Sir . . . that bag you had on your desk. What was that?"

Lewis cocked his head as though curious that his sergeant would have noticed it. In truth, the bag stood out a mile and it would have been surprising had even a substandard detective not noticed it.

"I bought the girls—erm, Jean and Laura—each a necklace as thanks for helping me this weekend. The least I could do."

A hesitation nagged at the edges of James's mind.

"A necklace? How nice! When did you have time to do that?"

"I ran out Saturday night when I couldn't dig any more."

"Did you get them each the same one?"

Lewis looked at him as though he were from another planet.

"The _same?_ Are you mad, Hathaway, man? You _never_ give two women the same gift at the same time. Didn't y'know that?"

Despite the bit of dread that was lurking in his mind, James found his sense of humor. "I did, of course, but I hesitate to ask why _you_ know that rule, Sir. Two women at the same time . . .?"

Lewis chuckled. "Don't underestimate me. I've had to give two women gifts at the same time before. And no, I'm not divulging the details." He gave two quick eyebrow arches without further explanation.

"So you got them different, but similar, necklaces?"

To Hathaway's surprise, Lewis blushed a little. "Well, 'similar' in that they're both necklaces. But not much more than that. Jean's is an enameled violet, somewhat stylized, and rather pretty, I think." He fell silent.

"And Laura's?"

Lewis's blush deepened. "Erm, Laura's is a bit more . . . y'know. Personal."

"Really? Why get her something so different?" Hathaway waited patiently, his boss's increasing discomfiture adding to his enjoyment.

Lewis clearly struggled to put into words the reason why Doctor Hobson, a mere pathologist, rated a different, finer reward than Chief Superintendent Innocent, his and Hathaway's boss.

"Well, y'know, James." Lewis shot him a look of desperation, silently begging him to go easy on the details. "I _like_ Laura more than Jean. We've been friends forever." He seemed to add the last as an afterthought.

Hathaway gazed benignly, his look intended to encourage Lewis to continue to bare his soul.

Which, to James's amazement, he did.

"It's only . . . I like her a _lot_. So I got her a sort of stylized heart. Fourteen-carat gold. And it has a bit of a diamond in it."

Hathaway stared. Lewis was giving Hobson a _diamond_?

"You mean a solitaire diamond, Sir? How big?"

"Well, it's nothin' much. Not huge. I think it's about a half carat."

Hathaway gave a low whistle. "I wouldn't call a half carat 'nothing much', Sir." _A gold heart with a half-carat diamond solitaire, versus an enameled violet. Not much comparison_. "Erm, Sir, you bought them from the same shop, right?"

"Yeah."

"How did you expect to keep the separate packages identifiable?" Hathaway was beginning to get a seriously sinking feeling about this.

"Ah. The bows. I had them put a purple bow on Jean's—she always makes me think of purple for some reason, y'know? And green on Laura's. 'Cos she's a green girl, in my mind." He became a bit wistful at that point. "Maybe that doesn't make any sense."

Hathaway felt horrible. "No, no, that makes perfect sense. You chose different color bows so you could tell the necklaces apart once they were wrapped in identical paper."

"Yup!" Lewis looked at first rather proud of himself. Then his expression softened. "I'm hoping that Laura won't mind the sentimentality of that heart and diamond." His color was rising, Hathaway noticed.

"It sounds lovely, and I'll probably never get to see it. Any chance you could peel off the tape on one end so I could have a look?"

"Aw, sorry. Laura stopped by while you were out smoking. I gave both of them their gifts since they were both here."

James swallowed. "Did they open them in front of you?"

Lewis looked surprised. "No, a'course not. That'd be bad manners, wouldn't it? Why d'you ask?"

"I was just thinking that Innocent wouldn't mind getting that heart, too. It'd be interesting to see if she was jealous."

Lewis gaped at him. "Good God, Hathaway, I wouldn't want to give the guv'nor anything like that! I'd have to be mad!" He studied the younger man closely. "Why even suggest such a thing?"

"Well, how can you be certain you gave them the right ones? Did you watch while the necklaces were wrapped and the right bow put on the right box?"

"A'course I did. Too big a risk not to."

Hathaway took a very deep breath. This wasn't good.

* * *

_Well, reader, you get to decide what Hathaway does here. Does he tell Lewis what happened with the bows? Yes or no?_

_If you think Yes, read the rest of the story at Chapter 2; if you think No, go to Chapter 3 for the rest of the story._


	2. Hathaway confesses

Lewis _had_ to be told. Maybe it wasn't too late and they could get the boxes back, check one, and make sure they went to the right recipients. At the very least, Lewis could be prepared for the chance that the gifts had gotten mixed up when Hathaway knocked the bows off.

"Erm, Sir? I need to make a confession. I seriously hope I haven't caused you a great deal of trouble."

Lewis frowned. "This is something bad, isn't it?"

Hathaway swallowed. "Yeah, I'm sorry to say it is, though I didn't realize it at first. I, erm . . . when I first came in this morning, I accidentally knocked the bag off your desk. And I peeked inside to make sure I hadn't broken anything. Which I hadn't. But unfortunately, what I _had_ done was, erm . . . knock the bows off the boxes."

He could hear Lewis's sharp intake of breath, but he plunged on. "I thought they were the same 'cos the boxes were identical. So I just put any bow back on any box. I'm truly sorry, Sir, I meant to tell you but it slipped my mind when you started telling me about your garden."

Lewis was shaking his head. "Aw, no, no, _no_!" His panic was beginning to turn to anger. "They could be _switched_? You're gonna have to get those back. It better not be too late, Hathaway. Good God, if Innocent got the one with the heart, what will she _think?_ And even if I explain it, what will she think when she sees the one she's getting instead? She'll know they're hardly equivalent." He glared at his sergeant. "Well? Get your skates on. You get that back from Innocent, _now_. And you better pray she hasn't opened it yet." He set his jaw. "I'll call Laura."

Hathaway scrambled up from his chair and flew out of the office. Lewis punched Laura's number into his phone. _I can ask her to open hers. If it's the wrong one, I'll explain that I got her a much nicer one. And if it's the right one, I'll . . ._ He clicked off his mobile. _And if it's the right one, I'll _WHAT_? _He wasn't certain he was up to being present when she opened his gift to her. What if she was not of the same mind? But he had to do what he could to ensure Innocent didn't get the wrong box.

Resolutely, he called again and this time stuck with the call as it rang over to her voice mail. "Yeah, Laura, it's me. Please call me back as soon as you can. I need to know if you've opened your little present yet, I'm afraid there might be a problem with it. Bye."

He rang off and sighed. All he could do now was wait for James to come back.

* * *

Hathaway hustled down the corridor to the Chief Super's office. It was empty and dark, and the desk of her sergeant was also empty. Peering between the slats of the blinds, James could see the wrapped box on her desk. He tried the door, but it was locked. Resigned to being unable to do anything for now, he headed back to the office.

"Well?"

"She hasn't opened it yet. I could see it on her desk. But she's not there and it's all locked up. Did you talk to Doctor Hobson?"

"Nah, got her voice mail. Look, Sergeant. This is your mess, so you better keep working at resolving it. Find a way to get into Innocent's office."

"_My_ mess?" What would have been so hard about having them wrapped in different paper?"

Lewis gave him a cold look. "They only had the one. Otherwise, it was birthday paper or wedding paper. I _thought_ I had figured out a decent solution. Didn't count on your blundering about. If you'd said something right away, instead of hoping we wouldn't notice . . ."

"I wasn't hoping you wouldn't notice; it slipped my mind, as I said."

The inspector rolled his eyes. "Well, don't just sit here. Can't you use a credit card on the door or something? Bribe one of the cleaning staff? There must be some way an enterprising young man like yourself can get into her office."

Hathaway set his mouth firmly and exhaled through his nose. Then, without a word, he got up and left the office. Everything at the Chief Inspector's office was still dark. He fiddled with the doorknob, trying to see how much play was between the door and the jamb. He _might_ be able to snag the catch with a credit card, come to that. He took one out of his wallet and fiddled with the knob of the door, trying to force as much space as possible between it and the jamb.

"Sorry, Sergeant, can I help you with something?"

He whirled to face the Chief Super's sergeant, Lisa McCafferty, eyeing him suspiciously. He quickly palmed the credit card.

"Oh, hi, Lisa. I was just, erm . . . wondering if the Chief Super was gone for the day. I need to see her about something."

"She had a meeting in Milton Keynes this afternoon, and I don't think she planned to return after that. Will it wait until morning?"

"Erm, is there any way you can unlock this door?"

She scowled at that. "Not without her permission."

"Okay, well . . . I guess I can see her in the morning." Hathaway wandered off, trying to look nonchalant, and hoping to avoid any questions.

He went and had a cigarette, taking his time and deciding what to tell Lewis. He'd wait until most people had gone home, and then try forcing the door. If it didn't work, he'd be sure to return early in the morning and meet the Chief Super before she got in. Then he could simply explain that there was a mix-up and rescue the present from her office.

Lewis wasn't happy with his lack of progress, but Hathaway had him fairly convinced there would be success if he could work the lock without interruption. But later that evening, Hathaway found his reassurances were baseless. The lock simply would not budge. _Damn._ _She must have used the deadbolt_.

* * *

As he planned, Hathaway returned very early the next morning. Innocent's sergeant was not yet at her desk, and the Chief Super's office was still dark. Hathaway peeked in to reassure himself that the object of his quest was still there. He felt his stomach make a sickening lurch: _the present was gone_.

"Sergeant? Are you looking for me?"

Hathaway whipped his head around at the familiar voice. "Yes, Ma'am, I am." No way around it; he was going to have to make a full explanation with apology.

She studied him curiously as she unlocked and opened the office door. "I thought as much. Sergeant McCafferty telephoned me last night to say you'd been around late in the day. What do you need?"

He took a deep breath. "I'll be frank, Ma'am. I need to see the present Inspector Lewis gave you yesterday. It was on your desk last night. Did you open it?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes, I did. I stopped here after my meeting and took it home, though; it isn't here."

"Then I must ask you: what does it look like?"

She continued to eye him suspiciously. "Why is that of interest to you, Sergeant?"

Hathaway avoided her direct gaze. "Inspector Lewis thinks there's a chance he got them mixed up and that you may have received the one intended for Doctor Hobson and vice-versa."

Understanding washed over her face. "Ah. Why are you the one pursuing this?"

He pulled a face. "I was the one who might have gotten them switched, purely by accident, I might add. I was supposed to get it back from you before you opened it, but . . . Well, he won't be happy that I didn't get to it in time."

"Well, now. Can you describe the one Doctor Hobson was to receive?"

"I'd, erm, rather not."

"Then why don't we go see Lewis together and you can explain to him your lack of progress so far?"

James scowled. She had him where she wanted him. "The one for Hobson was a gold heart with a diamond."

He glanced up to check her reaction. Her surprise was genuine. _She didn't get that one_. "You got the one with the flower, then, Ma'am?" The relief in his voice was evident.

She was thinking, calculating. "Yes, a rather lovely enameled violet. But wouldn't that have been interesting had they been switched." A crooked smile slowly spread across her face. A wicked smile.

"It hardly seems fair that he would make you go through the pains of trying to retrieve them when it's his fault the one he bought Hobson makes such a statement."

"That's what I thought, Ma'am."

"We could have some fun with this, James, don't you think?"

His eyes widened. "Ma'am, one thing I do not want to do is find out what happens when Inspector Lewis gets really angry."

"Does he know you're here already this morning?"

"No, I came straightaway to your office, haven't been to mine yet."

Her grin was complete. "Good. You can keep clear of his wrath, don't worry. You might want to position yourself someplace you won't be seen, but where you can hear what happens."

* * *

"Knock, knock."

"Oh, Ma'am, come in." Lewis's welcoming smile caught and faded as he realized he did not yet know whether Hathaway had been successful in getting back the present.

She came into the office and closed the door almost all the way. "Robbie, I wanted to thank you for that very lovely necklace." Her voice was low, throaty, and she stood very close to him. "I didn't think I should wear it at the office, though; my sergeant would be bound to notice and might start asking awkward questions about where I got it. I mean, a heart and a _diamond_ can only mean one thing."

She continued as he closed his eyes, steeling himself. "I'm sorry I wasn't aware how you felt. But now that I know . . ." She reached out a hand toward his head, and ran her fingers through his hair. He flinched. She smiled. She'd been wanting to do that for some time now.

"Erm, Ma'am, I . . . I have to tell you, I didn't mean anything by it." His dry throat made his voice crack.

"Oh, really? What did you expect me to think, then? Something like that I'd have to hide from Mister Innocent, of course. No question what _he_ would think it meant. Maybe you should explain your intentions to me, Robbie."

He inhaled and held the breath a few seconds. "I didn't intend anything, Ma'am. Not toward you, at least. I meant to give the heart necklace to Laur—Doctor Hobson. She must have gotten the one I meant for you, which is much more appropriate for a woman who is both married and my boss." He swallowed. "I had them identified so I knew which was which but then Sergeant Hathaway got them switched and didn't bother to tell me until after I handed them out. He was supposed to try to get them sorted last night but . . ."

He rubbed his hand over his eyes. "Ma'am, I hate to do this, but I need to ask for it back. It's entirely inappropriate for me to give you anything like that, and I really wanted to give it to Doctor Hobson. I'll get yours back from her and I assure you, it will be something you don't have to hide from your husband. I'm truly sorry about the mix-up."

Innocent had to admit to herself that she was enjoying Lewis's utterly submissive and apologetic demeanor, and she decided to test how genuine it was.

"Isn't this Hathaway's fault, in part? I mean, you said he got them switched."

"Well, it would have helped if he'd said something sooner, but it was an accident as far as I can tell. I should have kept them in a safer place. I mean, anyone could have seen the bag was from the jeweler's and taken them, even."

He looked so abject, she couldn't maintain the charade any longer.

"Oh, Robbie! I have to admit that you did give me the one with the violet on it. I only wanted to see how you'd react if I'd received the other." She patted his arm, chuckling at his puzzled expression. "But it does make one wonder: why hasn't Hobson rung you to thank you for the heart yet?"

She smiled brightly as his expression darkened. "Well, Inspector, I must be getting to my work. And so should you. Happily, everything worked out the way you wanted." Then she cocked her head and shook it a little. "Or, nearly the way you wanted. I'm sorry if Laura's not as impressed with your present as I would have been, had I received it."

And out she went.

Lewis frowned deeply at the telephone, thinking. _Why _hasn't_ she called?_ She hadn't responded to his message yesterday, either. He began to entertain serious doubts about the wisdom of his choice.

When Hathaway found him, he was staring glumly at his desk. "Sir? I'm sorry I had to explain to the guv what happened with the presents. It was her idea to torture you with her little act." When his comment drew no response, his concern grew. "Sir? Is something wrong? They got the correct necklaces after all, didn't they?"

Lewis sighed. "Well, Jean did. I'm thinking I shouldn't have acted so boldly toward Laura. She's put up a wall of silence." He lapsed into a fitful moodiness, staring at the phone, then the desk, then the wall, then the phone again.

"You tried her mobile?"

"_Yes_, her home, her lab, her mobile. She's not answering my calls, that's all there is to it."

"Let me try, alright?"

Lewis waved his hands in helpless acceptance.

Hathaway rang the lab. When Hobson didn't answer immediately, he tried the general lab number.

"Hi, I was trying to reach Doctor Hobson, is she in? . . . I see, thank you."

He rang off. "She went home yesterday, feeling ill. She probably hasn't even opened it yet."

"Ill? Is it serious?"

"I didn't get the details. Why don't you go over to her house? See if she needs some nursing?"

Lewis blushed. "I'll go after work if I haven't heard from her by then."

* * *

Which he did, having _not_ heard from her by five o'clock. He hoped he wasn't disturbing her by ringing the bell, but soon found he was not. She answered fairly quickly. But she looked as though, indeed, she had been ill. She was in her pyjamas and dressing gown, and she looked pale.

He immediately was worried about her. "Aw, Laura, your lab said you weren't feeling well. Am I imposing on you?"

"No, Robbie, come in. I won't be the best hostess, though. I'm feeling better now but still not one hundred percent."

"What happened?"

"'Flu or something like that. Nausea, fever, headache, everything at once. Ugh, I feel as though I've been down a week."

"This isn't from working too hard in the heat in me garden?"

She smiled, winningly. "No, I'm certain of that. I felt fine Sunday night."

Lewis sat when she sat and took a deep breath, preparing to change gears. "Erm, Laura, did you open the thank-you present I gave you?"

She looked blank a moment. "Ohh. No, I forgot about it. Sorry, that's not very polite, is it?"

He smiled, thoroughly relieved. "'S'okay. You haven't been well. You don't have to be polite. Is it here?"

She thought a moment. "Yes, it is." She got up and found her work bag by the door. She rummaged in it a bit and her hand came out with his gift, green bow still intact. "Ta-dah!" She studied him. "Would you like me to open it now?"

"Yeah, I think so." He was visibly nervous.

She removed the paper and opened the box. Her eyes widened when she saw what it contained. "Robbie, this . . ." She couldn't continue.

He spoke quickly. "I know it seems a bit like an engagement ring or something. I don't mean it like that. But your friendship is golden and shines like a diamond to me. And the heart . . ."

She flashed a hopeful look at him.

"Well, the heart is . . . because I love you." He smiled, a bit self-deprecating, letting her know that he meant their friendship had deepened into love.

"I love you, too, Robbie." She reached her arms around him, and they stood that way for a long, long time.


	3. Hathaway doesn't tell

Hathaway knew he should probably tell Lewis what had happened earlier and that the bows might have gotten switched. But the damage was done now. If there even _was_ any damage, what with only a fifty-fifty chance he had put them wrong. And not that it was exactly Lewis's fault but why invite trouble by wrapping them the same in the first place? The bows could have come off by themselves, anyway. James ignored the nagging voice telling him that, had that been the case, Lewis would have known to check the gifts before giving them out.

Despite feeling more than a bit guilty at not telling Lewis, Hathaway managed to convince himself that it was better Lewis did not find out the role his sergeant played in the mix-up, if there even was one. He would only blow it totally out of proportion. They were all friends and it would all get sorted out in the end. In the meantime, maybe Lewis would get put to an awkward explanation but so what? He was the one to create the great disparity between the two gifts. Hathaway focused on his computer, suddenly very intent on getting a lot of work done.

* * *

Lewis turned back to his work. James seemed to be done trying to torment him with unfounded fears that the store had somehow managed to switch the necklaces despite Lewis's vigilance while they were being wrapped. He shook it off, deciding Hathaway was merely a bit envious of Lewis having gotten two women over to his place at the same time _and_ having a lovely garden to show for it. Not to mention the fact that Hathaway simply enjoyed winding up his boss whenever he could.

The rest of the day passed quickly and too soon it was time to go back out in the heat and head for home. Both men peeled off their suit jackets before going out, but the hot blast still came close to crushing them with its oppressiveness.

When Hathaway arrived home, he cranked up the fan of his air conditioner and took a cold beer from the fridge. Lewis had invited him over to see the new garden but Hathaway felt it would be better if he kept his distance until the whole necklace matter was resolved. He still felt a bit of a twinge about it but since he hadn't yet received an angry phone call from Lewis, he figured most likely everything had worked out fine.

When Lewis got home, he changed into shorts and a lightweight, short-sleeved shirt, grabbed a cold beer and headed, barefoot, out to the garden. The flagstones of the new walkway felt surprisingly cool and smooth under the soles of his feet. He was glad he'd made that decision, even though the flags had been heavy and it had been difficult to get them level. Laura had wanted pea gravel and Jean crushed limestone; either one of those would have required shoes. He smiled a little, and sat on the bench under the pergola, trying to imagine it next summer when the trumpet vines would provide welcome shade. It would really be very, very nice. When the beer was gone, he filled up his watering can, and began to take care of his thirsty, new plants.

When he finished, he went inside, planning to take a cool bath. He glanced at the phone in case Laura had called while he was outside; he secretly hoped she'd call as soon as she saw what he had given her. But the indicator read "0" unblinkingly.

He had soaked for almost fifteen minutes when the phone rang. He scrambled from the tub and sprinted, dripping and naked, over to the phone, glancing at the caller ID as he answered.

"Hi, Laura, what's up?" He rubbed himself one-handedly with a towel.

"Did I interrupt something? You sound out of breath." He could hear the amusement in her voice.

"Ah, I was only in the bath, trying to cool off a bit." He snugged the towel around his waist.

"Mmm." Was she trying to picture it? He thought so.

"I'm not sure when I'll see you in person next, so I wanted to thank you for the lovely necklace. It's beautiful."

He felt himself blush, even though there was no one there to see. "Yeah? You earned it. I'm glad you like it; I wanted you to know how much I appreciate what you've done for me. I picked it especially for you." He waited to see if she would respond to the sentiment he hoped she would perceive.

"Yes, a very nice surprise. You didn't have to do this, you know. You're a dear. Is it still everything you hoped for? The garden I mean. It was fun working on it."

"I was just out in it. It's really nice, especially on a hot, summer night. I wish you'd been here to sit with me." He hoped this last wouldn't sound too forward.

"Mmm, that'd be nice. Maybe tomorrow night?"

"Yeah, that'd be great. I can't wait."

"Well, thanks again. I'll treasure this. You're sweet, you know that? Bye."

_Sweet. Did she really just call me sweet?_ The little smile stayed on his lips even after he'd fallen asleep that night.

* * *

The next morning, Lewis found himself entering the building at the same time the Chief Superintendent arrived.

"Mornin' Ma'am. You look as though you're keeping cool in this heat." Lewis waved a friendly greeting and smiled openly.

She narrowed her eyes as though assessing his comment for more than what it bore on the surface. "Oh, Lewis. Yes." She seemed distracted. And a bit cold.

She hurried past him without another word.

_Something's bothering her._ Maybe he was way out of line giving her any kind of gift. It did not escape his observation that she was wearing a dress shot with violet of the exact same shade as the necklace, and that its neckline would have been perfectly complemented by the pendant. Yet she wore no jewelry at all around her neck. _She didn't like it?_

He hustled to catch up. "Everything alright, Ma'am?" He put his hand on her arm and was surprised when she jerked away.

"_Don't_." She sped off, leaving him standing there, confused.

"Morning, Sir." Hathaway came up behind him. "Something amiss with our guv?"

Lewis looked after her, puzzled. "Seems to be." He shook it off. "I suppose it's none of our business."

They entered the office.

"So are 'the girls' happy with their gifts? Did they compare notes?"

"Ah, brilliant, Hathaway. That must be it. Jean seems a bit stand-offish. If she and Laura found out what each other received, they might find the subject a bit awkward."

"Oh? Stand-offish, how? And didn't Hobson tell you she'll marry you if you'd only ask her?"

Lewis blushed a little. "Doctor Hobson was very nice about it. She's not one to gush like a girl, anyway. Innocent was polite, but . . . I dunno. Maybe distracted." He looked over the papers on his desk. "Don't you have work to do, Sergeant? Work that has nothing to do with me personal life?" He tried to appear stern.

"Yes, Sir." With a crooked smile, Hathaway returned to his work. Looked like everything was going to be alright.

* * *

Around one in the afternoon, the telephone on Lewis's desk rang.

"Yeah, Lewis."

"Hi, it's me. I have a report on the Barnum case I wanted to discuss. Thought I'd make sure you boys were in before I came over."

"Yup, we're here, Doctor." Lewis felt a little thrill when he rang off. This would be the first time he would see Laura face-to-face after giving her the diamond necklace. He wondered if it would change anything.

Hathaway noticed the little smile playing across Lewis's mouth and he smirked. _Well, we'll soon find out how she felt when she opened that very romantic gift from him._

A few minutes later, Laura strode in, knocking on their open door as she entered. "Afternoon, gentlemen. Your Barnum report." She handed the papers to Hathaway and turned to Lewis. He was staring at her neckline where hung an enameled violet on a delicate golden chain.

"_Shit_." Almost inaudible.

Laura raised her eyebrows. "Sorry? Robbie?"

"Th-th-that necklace! Where did you get that?"

Hobson studied him a minute as though he'd gone barmy. "Well, Robbie, you gave it to me yesterday, as you may recall."

"No, I _didn't_. I gave you the other one. That one's Jean's."

Laura pulled it forward so she could see the violet. "This was in the box you gave me."

Lewis's face was awash in confusion. "No, it couldn't have been. I gave you the one with the green bow. I'm certain."

Hathaway was wondering if leaving the office would only serve to draw more attention to himself.

"And so you did, I remember you handing one to Jean with a purple bow and one to me with a green bow, and I was glad I got the green one 'cos I like green better than purple."

He stared at her in disbelief. "So how'd you end up with the violet? You were supposed to get . . ." He was reluctant to say. And then the full realization hit him, of where exactly the heart necklace must be, if not around Laura Hobson's neck.

"Aw, no, _NO!_"

"'No' what, Robbie? Jean got the wrong one, too, I suppose? We can just switch them, I'm certain she'll understand."

"Well, she must have done, mustn't she? We can't just switch them, the one she got is . . . _Shit_." The last was said quietly enough that it didn't really count as swearing in front of a woman. "How the bloody hell did that happen? I was so careful to keep them separate. Something must have—" His eyes snapped up to Hathaway.

"You were acting a bit weird yesterday, Sergeant. What do you know about this?"

Hathaway shook his head in implied denial, looking as confused as he could.

"Look, Laura, can I have this one? I meant you to have a much more . . . special gift. More personal. Let me give this one to Jean and I'll somehow get yours back from her."

Laura reached behind her neck and disconnected the clasp. "Here. But I don't have the box for it any more."

"That's okay. This is such a bloody mess, who cares about boxes?" He slipped it into his pocket. "You'll get the one I intended you to have, I promise." For an instant, he looked as though he was going to kiss her. Then he snapped his head away—breaking the invisible connection—stood up, and headed out of the office.

He knocked quietly on the Chief Super's open office door, poking his head around the corner. "Ma'am? Excuse me?" May I come in for a moment?"

She scowled, huffed, and then waved him in. He closed the door behind himself.

"What is this about, Inspector?"

"It's, erm . . . personal. About the, erm . . . necklace I gave you yesterday. I, erm . . ."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, spit it out, Lewis!"

He flinched at her harsh tone. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. This is truly embarrassing. I didn't mean to give you the one with the heart. I got the boxes mixed up somehow by mistake. I'm really very sorry. You must have been wondering about why I gave you something so . . . inappropriate."

"I had done, yes. As would Mister Innocent, had he seen it."

Lewis pulled out the violet necklace from his pocket. "This is the one you were meant to have, Ma'am. I'm afraid it's not exactly comparable, but it's far more appropriate." He handed it to her.

"Oh, Robbie, this is lovely. I adore violets." She reached behind her neck, trying to connect the clasp, but not having much success with that.

"Here, let me." Lewis reached around her neck and hooked the clasp in place. The necklace was perfect with her dress. Lewis grinned at the overall effect.

"You look very nice, Ma'am. Now if I could, erm . . . have the other?"

She frowned. "It's not here, Lewis. I had to conceal it immediately from Mister Innocent. My God, what he would have thought had he seen it! I only hoped you had had a moment of serious misjudgment. Otherwise . . ."

Lewis was curious to know what would have happened had he intended her to receive such a blatant declaration from him. He cocked his head inquisitively. "Otherwise what, Ma'am?"

She lowered her brow in clear disapproval. "Enough, Lewis. Is it alright if I bring the other necklace to your house tonight? I'll need to go home and collect it. I hope that's soon enough for you to declare whatever feelings you wanted to declare to Doctor Hobson."

He blushed. "I didn't intend to declare anything. Just thought it would give her a hint of how I feel."

Innocent stared at him, disbelieving. "It's practically an engagement ring!"

It was Lewis's turn to be shocked. "It's no such thing! It's meant to be a symbol of our friendship, nothing more."

She shook her head. "If that's all you mean, Robert Lewis, you're a fool for more than one reason." She waved her hand at the door. "I'll get it to you tonight and you can decide what you want to do with it. Now, if there's nothing more, you may get back to your work."

* * *

He let Laura in and beckoned her out to the garden. He'd lit some pillar candles, and they added a soft glow to the lights that he'd strung around the top of the pergola.

She stared in wonder at the beauty of the garden at night. "It's so lovely, Robbie."

He couldn't take his eyes from her. "And so are you. Here. This is what I meant you to have." He held out the small box.

She opened it slowly and froze. "Robbie, this . . ." She couldn't continue.

He spoke quickly. "Jean said it was practically an engagement ring. I don't mean it like that. But your friendship is golden and shines like a diamond to me. And the heart . . ."

She flashed a hopeful look at him.

"Well, the heart is . . . because I love you." He smiled, a bit self-deprecating, letting her know that he meant their friendship had deepened into love.

"I love you, too, Robbie." She reached her arms around him, and they stood that way for a long, long time.


End file.
